Would you Kindly
by Septim7
Summary: A Conman is only as good as his con. These words of wisdom have always driven me forward. Now set adrift from all my connections, my power, my everything, I have to start over from scratch in a new world. Heh, not so bad I suppose. I did want to try out some new ideas anyway. A Bioshock/DC crossover fic with Atlas coming to the DC universe. How will a world of superheroes react?
1. Ch 1 Birth of a Titan

Would you Kindly

Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock, Bioshock Infinite, Teen Titans, or DC.

_So new story. I've had this on the brain for a while now. Thought I would get it out there and see what people think. Hopefully you like it. If so please leave a review with comments or concerns. I would be glad to answer them. Enjoy!_

*Chapter Start*

The room was dark, but in my mind it was red.

Everything was red.

Red, red, red, red, _**RED**_!

It was as if a haze had descended upon me. A haze that wrapped around my thoughts like a warm blanket, masking everything else from my mind.

But I could feel it fading. I could feel it slipping through the cracks that had found purchase in my psyche. What was worse was that I could feel the cracks growing with each use. Every time I brought back that warm, delicious haze of **RED**, I felt more of myself slip through the ever growing crevices.

Nothing else mattered anymore. That's the worst part of this. I can feel all that makes me, _ME!_, slip away and yet I don't care.

Not anymore.

In this room of black and red, I see all my past lies falling to my feet, no longer necessary. I am now the Conman without a con.

I am no longer Frank Fitzpatrick. Or Frank Gorland, or Barris, Wiston, Moskowits, or even Wang!

And I am definitely no longer Frank Fontaine.

I may have come to this city to turn a profit, to take control of a city under the sea, to pull the greatest con of the **world**. None of that matters now. I had seen the dregs of society mew for help over and over again in this dreadfully wonderful city. I had seen the addicts strung out on ADAM, looking for their next hit. I had seen the lengths they would go, the lowest of society forming together and crawling their way up the ladder for just a taste of success.

I was set to capitalize on that, over a decade of finely laid plots on the cusp of fruition. All that effort to take control of this great underwater city, and use it to control the world.

And none of that mattered anymore. Not with the power that now flowed through my body.

I feel the power in my veins as I lay prone and spread on the table. The cold of the metal holding me in place is a sharp contrast to the burning _**power**_ in my blood.

A dull ringing fills the room, and slowly I pull myself from the haze enough to open my eyes. Above me a small black and white screen flares briefly to life, showing me a view I had come to recognize with increasing frequency.

A man ran through a corridor, shotgun braced in his arms as he stormed doorway after doorway. Drones filled the air in number, but none seemed to matter to the man. Their propellers whirled as they flew through the air, blasting away with their short machine guns. For all their numbers and bullets it did nothing to dissuade the man tearing through their numbers.

Short dark hair was haphazardly swept back from his brow, sweat showing on his face from his exertion. A dirty white sweater clung to his form, bullet holes and burns spread liberally throughout the fabric. Ripped jeans and tattered boots clung to him like a second skin. None of that is what truly defined him however.

It was his shoulders, the way he held himself. As he jogged through the corridors under a hail of gunfire, shotgun braced and barking towards my final line of defense drones, his shoulders seemed to both sag in exhaustion and rise in defiance at the burden he seemingly bore alone against the world.

If one were to merely replace the modern firearm and clothing with a classical Greek outfit, it would have been a picturesque painting of Hercules on his way to his final labour. Of Atlas as he held up the heavens in his arms in resignation, while still casting his eyes up in defiance. Of Odysseus as he gazed angrily at the gods, watching as his trip home was stolen from him.

The man finally seemed to reach his destination. He climbed a single set of golden stairs and stepped into the elevator before him. The golden light that was emitted grew darker as the doors closed, and I knew exactly where he was headed.

With a flick of my wrist I broke the restraint holding me back and grab the screen hanging before my face. I could feel warmth spreading to my eyes and body, and knew with a savage grin that my change was almost complete. I watched with glee as my hand burst into flame, skin cracking away as magma was slowly revealed beneath my flesh.

Beneath me I could see the great red tubes that carried the power into me. They stretched as far as the eye could see in the room, all coming to rest at my throne. They pierced my flesh, and I watched gleefully as more and more **power** flowed into me.

I firmly pushed the intercom button, cackling as the machine gave a mechanical squeal as it melted in my grasp.

Before the screen cut off I saw the light turn red, indicating that I was broadcasting.

My voice cracked as I slipped into the Bronx accent that I had come to use. My voice pattern was changing, becoming slower, like gravel slipping between my lips. I rumbled out my next words, not sure how much more time I had till the transformation was complete.

"I remember when me and… the Kraut put you on that sub."

Images flashed through my mind. A name, along with a face. A women, and children. All girls. But it was getting harder and harder to remember. I couldn't. Instead I struggled to keep talking, to buy some more time for the conversion to complete.

"You were no more than two. You were my ace in the hole. But you were also the closest thing I've ever had to a son. That's why this hurts. Betrayal, kid."

It was getting harder and harder to force the words out. With a bellow I let lose my final words, just as the elevator clanged open in front of me. "Life… isn't strictly business!"

The man that emerged was the same from the screen moments before, and seemed to pause in horror as he took in my new form. For that is what I had become, something new. Something this world had never seen before.

From atop my metal contraption I gazed down into the eyes of a mortal, and reflected in his eyes was a God.

NO!... a **Titan**.

The fire that sang in my blood was now visible on the surface, lancing back and forth across my flesh as rivers of magma. My skin had turned black, rocky, and barren. My muscles had bulged, becoming perfection. My eyes blazed with fire deep in their core, two twin points of light that gazed into the soul of the mortal in front of me.

I could see the fear in his eyes.

Then a voice broke the silence between us. A voice that I remembered from deep within my mind, and one I should have recognized. But the haze… the _**RED! **_was everywhere now. Hardly anything was left. The cracks in my mind were gaping valleys, with waterfalls that flowed down into inky blackness.

"Go! Go now! Hit him with the needle!"

It came from the box attached to the man's belt, a woman's face flashing briefly on the screen before cutting to black. I felt a vague sense of recognition from the box, and the voice. But just as fast as it appeared it vanished, and all I cared about was the glorious _**POWER**_ that was centered in my chest.

The man hardened his gaze with resolution, and with a grace that would have made Artemis jealous he glided up the steps to me and thrust a syringe into my chest.

I gasped as he jammed the needle deep, and my eyes widened in horror as the haze was swiftly drained away. I froze and could do nothing as the vial in his syringe quickly filled with _**MY**_ power.

And just like that…

My mind was clear. I felt a longing in my bones, an ache in my psyche, _a CALLING_ that I could not ignore. I was missing something vital and I _W__**ANTED IT BACK!**_

With a quick flex of my augmented arms I tore away from the restraints, and socked the man right in the face.

While that might have been impressive when I was still human, it was downright amazing with my power now. He flew twenty, then thirty feet away before hitting the far wall and falling to his knees.

The haze was slowly coming back, replacing the ache with **RED**. I felt the heat in my arms as they caught on fire, bathing my black rocky skin in soft oranges and reds.

I cared for nothing as I flew across the huge room in a single leap, knee extended to smash the pitiful ant before me. With an almighty crash I smashed into the bronzed metal that made up the chamber, the squeal of broken girders a background noise as I looked around me for my prey.

I had to squint my fiery eyes to make out a hint of movement in front of me. Everything was simply shades of red on red, blending into the background and foreground at random intervals.

There!

Just to the right of my throne to godhood a shift of red moved out from behind the contraption and aimed a glowing light towards me. The man had a large device in his hands. It was large, slunk down under his arm in obvious weight as he hefted it in my direction. A light flickered, and with almighty screech bright arcs of electricity shot out of the end.

Even the pain of my transformation paled in comparison to this new form of torture. I felt the currents of electricity as they flew through my rocky skin unimpeded. I convulsed as the forks of lightning sang through my muscles, and I screamed as they cooked my bones.

The pain seemed never ending. I endured as it rolled through my form for what seemed like hours, until finally the stream of bright white that cut through the red stopped.

The red haze that had been so prevalent was now just a whisper in my mind.

Then it was back, but not like before. Seemingly without conscious command it rose around me, becoming a visible red current that swiftly swam around me. Its speed increased till it was just a blur, then with a bang it poured into my core and I was no longer standing where I was.

Looking around I saw that I was back in my harness, restraints tight against my flesh and pitifully immobile as the man once again rose and plunged his syringe like a dagger into me.

It felt worse this time. The moment the haze cleared the ache was back stronger than before. The longing in my mind screamed to be back once more within the warm red haze that permeated my mind.

My psyche screamed, and the haze answered once again.

From deep within my core my power once more rose up in defiance, but this time it was different. Instead of the warmth that I had come to expect, it was a chill that froze the very air around me. White ice slowly crept over my fingers, the long thin branches of snowflakes spreading and expanding. I felt the ice spread into as well as across my skin, and watched as it cracked in jagged blocks of ice and as the temperature dipped lower and lower.

I felt a savage grin split my frozen lips, and with a swipe of my arm the mortal once again flew across the room to smack into the metal wall with a clang.

This time I grabbed the metal that made up my machine and tore the thick metal brace off the back. With a screech I tore the piece off, and in my hand rested a six foot length of pure metal.

"I'm barely gettin' started!" I yelled and lunged once more at the downed foe. My voice groaned and cracked, as if two great icebergs crashed into each other with every other syllable.

I heard the whistling of my drones come from the ceiling, machine guns _chick-clacking_ away as they sped through their rounds. I noticed the rest of my glorious throne screech and fall to the floor without the support of the piece I took.

The haze crept back and my mind reveled in it.

I lost myself within the red comfort and my body acted on instinct. It lunged, and punched, and kicked without any conscious decision on my part. Minutes passed by in seconds as I let my body run on auto pilot, chasing the mortal to his death. Right until a searing pain stabbed me in the thigh.

My mind snapped into place with jarring precision, and once again I was in control of my faculties. I looked down in astonishment as a crossbow bolt lay nestled through a crack of my icy flesh. With a grunt I reached down to pull it out only to have another pierce my shoulder with a dull crack.

This one I felt instantly. Searing pain lanced through my entire body and I fell to my knees. The bolt was deep, almost to the fletching, and it had rendered my arm immobile. I could feel my power rising up through me once again, rising to the foremost point of my brain without my direction. Once again it was acting on its own and that frightened me most of all.

Across the hall I saw the man once more. He stood amidst a pile of my robot sentries, foot raised and placed proudly, defiantly, in opposition of my power. He raised his crafted crossbow for a third time, and just as my red haze became visible around me he loosed the bolt.

The bolt flew with accuracy gifted from the gods.

It wasn't faster than me.

The haze seemed to sense the danger approaching and swiftly picked up speed. It roared around me and a gasp left my breath as it once more tore into my chest with more force than the greatest punch.

With a flash however I was once more strapped to that thrice-damned throne of godhood.

I swung my head around in confusion as I realized that it was no longer the broken heap that I had reduced it to, but fully whole once more. The restraints were taut against my struggling flesh, firmly held in place despite my best efforts.

And who would I see out of the corner of my eye, but the ant that dared challenge me.

He approached me once more; steps hurried as he put his shotgun away and pulled out that blasted syringe.

"I'm gonna cut you… into bits!" I said through my cracked lips. My voice raw, distorted. Anger clearly engraved in every word.

Stoically he refused an answer, and stabbed deep into my core with his weapon.

My power was fading now. Already where once it has **SANG** through my veins it now whispered, where it burned through my muscles the embers now barely generated any heat at all.

It returned to me once more, but it was diminished and not the same as it once was. Electricity flickered at my fingertips, dancing across them like fairies in play. I felt the power inside me once more and let it **SOAR!**

It came out like a pulse, flinging the man away for hopefully the final time. A huge circle of static and lightning expanded from my center and engulfed me, blasting away the cursed device I was strapped to only to dissipate into the air a couple feet from me.

I glanced around for my quarry and spotted him retreating to a room adjoining this one. On his tail was another wave of my ever faithful drones. The man zig-zagged through the doorway as the drone's rounds tore into the metal grated floor underfoot.

I looked once more at the broken throne. My mind was hardly there anymore. The ragged valleys were oceans of emptiness that had once held everything that I was together. No longer was I the man that had conned an underwater city for over a decade. No longer was I the man that cleverly beat people that were stronger, faster, and smarter than him. Now… now I was Everything, and nothing. Hardly anything was left, and what _was_ left was dwindling fast.

I could not remember faces, names, places, or even memories. All I had left were vague generalizations of who I once was, and who I had been.

I turned and heading through the doorway. On the other side was a sight that seemed familiar. The man stood tall in combat with my drones, defiant to the last. Shotgun braced against his hip he fired round after round at the oncoming horde.

"Come and get it!" I screamed through a broken and hoarse throat. The sound echoed and warbled through the air unnaturally, like static electricity snapping through the air. I felt my power once more pulse within me, but this time I compressed it to my closed fist. I felt it condense in my hand, and with a grunt I threw it with all my might.

The bright blue pulsing orb that floated from my outstretched hand was… dare I say it… pretty.

It was soft, giving off a delicate glow that was reflected off the surface of the metal floor as it passed. It floated, slower than a softball towards my target.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, he simply stood there dumbly as the orb approached. What was surprising was when it gave off a buzz and expanded tenfold with a mighty explosion. He flew backwards with such force that he broke the wooden boxes that were in his way, scattering the contents across the room.

"Ha! Is that the best ya got?" I yelled once more in my static sounding voice. I filled and compressed the energy in both hands this time and let them fly with a great throw.

Orb after orb rained softly down as the mortal stood and ran away.

Great bellowing laughs left my mouth as I chucked more and more. Explosions rang throughout the entire room, blanketing it in blue glow before dying out entirely.

I stood strong, tall, and proud as I gazed for my prey.

The room that met my gaze was not the same as before. Shards of wood pierced the metal floor from the force of the explosions. What was left of the large metal boxes lay strewn around the ground. Huge jagged rips were torn into the metal floor, leaving large pieces stabbing upwards, eagerly awaiting flesh to pierce.

I saw all this, but I didn't see my quarry.

The dust settled in the ruined room and my prey was nowhere to be seen. I turned my head side to side in a halfhearted final attempt to locate him when I felt the cold touch of steel against my back.

I stiffened instantly, but it was a futile gesture of a desperate fool. A blast from the shotgun tore through my chest from back to front, opening up a great gaping chasm in my chest. My heavy seven foot tall form fell to its knees as my control was cut like a string. I heard the cocking of the shotgun's chamber before I felt the cold metal settle against the back of my down turned head.

Heavy gasps of breath left my mouth in great heaves, unable to take in a breath.

Somehow I knew the instant his finger settled on that trigger.

I knew, and so did the monster that had settled inside me.

Red mist pulsed around me once more and in a blink I was no longer on my knees, a defeated giant.

Instead I found myself strapped to a steel machine. Red hoses of energy snaking to and fro before entering into my flesh all over my body.

I found myself strapped to the same very throne I vaguely remember destroying. My hands tightened and pulled taut, but the restraints held firm. The gold light glowed from my chest once more, as if it had never left. As if it hadn't been stolen from me over and over again only to be returned.

And like a nightmare, _**he**_ stepped out of the shadows of the elevator doors and walked forward, towards my immobile form.

_**He**_ walked forward, putting his machine gun on his back as he pulled out his syringe.

He silently, stoically, walked up the steps to my throne and plunged his weapon into my exposed breast with all the grace and finesse of a charging rhinoceros.

That is when I felt it. Or rather, didn't feel it. The wonderful power, the haze, the _**RED**_, didn't come back as the man filled his vial for the last time. There was nothing more to take. The red tubes full of wonderful, glorious ADAM that flowed from my throne and into me turned clear as they finally ran dry.

I gasped in pain, pain that seemed to radiate from my core. Pain that tore through every fiber of my being! Pain… and emptiness.

With a surge of strength I didn't know I had, I broke my restrains for a final time and swept the man to the ground.

He flew from my outstretched arm, but not nearly far enough. I saw him push himself off his face and lean back against the broken bronze wall behind him.

I saw this as I broke the rest of my restraints and pulled myself out of my harness. With a leap I cleared the stairs, but found my body couldn't handle even such a simple task anymore. I stumbled as I reached the floor not five feet from my throne. My feet gave way underneath my suddenly heavy body, and I balanced myself with a hand on the floor.

"I… had you built!" I groaned, and pulled myself slowly to my feet.

That man. That man simply sat there with his back against the wall watching me. He watched me with the look of a man that had nothing else to lose, and was content.

All it left me with was anger. Anger at **him!** Who had done this to me**. ME!**

"I sent you topside!" I ground out of my weakening lips. With another heaving step forward I closed the distance between the two of us.

"I took you back,… showed you what you was,…what you was capable of!" With every word I grew closer to him, and with every step I felt myself growing weaker. The emptiness that had settled deep inside me ached now. It could feel the void, and ached to have it replaced again. To be filled!

"Even that life …you thought you had," I struggled now. The words did not making sense inside my head. "That was something I dreamed of,… and tattooed inside your head!"

A fog was drifting through my mind. The oceans that had been valleys that had been cracks had turned into emptiness. There was nothing left. Nothing at all.

I felt a pain in my chest, and looked down. There was a syringe sticking out of my body, right where my heart should be. Slowly I pulled the long needle out, and with a careless toss it flew forwards. The needle stuck in the dirt inches from the man, and it stayed upright defiantly as I stumbled forward one more step.

He was close now, just a couple feet in front of me. I don't know who he is, but he seems familiar. There are words ringing in my head, but they don't make sense. I say them anyway as I stumble forward.

"Now if you don't… call that family." I slur, hand raised to strike the man. Dimly I hear a small clank sound behind me, but I give it no notice.

"I don't know what is. And now…" I finish the words that echo throughout my empty head. I don't recall what they mean, but they are all that I remember.

"Get him!"

A sharp pain rockets from my back as a feel a weight settle suddenly across my shoulders.

"Come on! Come on!"

More and more weights settle upon me. Some grab my shoulders, others my arms and legs. All of them are quickly followed by more sharp piercing pain that rockets through my entire being.

The feeling goes out in my legs, and I all to the floor once again with an echoing thud.

"It's the bad man!" "Get him!"

My eyes open once more. Curled up on the floor, I can see the dozen or so little girls that attack me, all armed with large needles. Needles that they eagerly stab into my flesh over and over again.

A sharp cough escapes my lungs, and I manage to roll onto my back. The girls, each in a small modest black dress, eagerly exploit the skin now bared and jump on my chest in number.

"Kill him!" "Kill him!"

Their yells get softer and softer, as does the pain. I can feel the emptiness that permeates through my entire being and mind reaching the very edge of my awareness.

With a final gasp I feel it encompass everything, and I fade to black.

After what felt like an eternity within the inky darkness of nothing, I heard a dull clang that echoed through my skull.

Voices drifted in and out of my mind like mirages and phantoms. Two voices in particular that seemed to be able to pierce the fog that currently inhabited my mind. Their voices appeared to be almost in sync with each other. Using the same odd pauses, tones, and pitches with their words, it was almost as if they were speaking their own language.

"I told you this would work." There, that one sounded female. Its pitch slightly higher, daintier.

"No you didn't. "And there's the other one. Definitely male.

"I was GOING to tell you it would work."

"But you didn't."

"But I don't." The female voice corrected.

"You sure that's right?" He questioned.

"I was going to _HAVE_ told you it would work?"

"No."

"The subjunctive?"

"That's not the subjunctive."

"I don't think think syntax has being invented yet."

"It would have had to have been."

"Had to had been? That can't be right." I could almost see the girl shaking her head dismissively.

And just like that, any thought of me being sane flew out the window.

"I do believe he is coming around."

"I do believe you're right. Still don't see the point to all this."

"The point?" The point to what?"

"The experiment, there are plenty of other interesting subjects."

"Well _I'm_ not through with this one yet."

"Not through?"

"Yes, not through. I'm interested."

"Oh? But we have already run all the variables. This path is a bust."

"You know what they say, Number 7,484 is the charm."

Like a moth to an open flame I felt drawn to these two voices. They spoke nonsense, words that on their own made sense, but together left me floundering. They switched places in the conversation more often than partners at a dance festival. It was with a gasping breath that I inhaled suddenly, clawing my way back from hell's door. I felt fire in my veins, a burning that wracked my body in waves. It came from my very core, a pulsing current that spread in an instance to all my extremities, lava being left behind in its wake.

As fast as it spread it retreated, leaving a cold ache in its place. All this happened in a second, only to repeat itself agonizingly moments later. I dimly recognized that the feeling was in sync with the dull thumping of the pulse in my head. An echoing **thump-thump** that seemed to resonate throughout my mind.

With great effort I pulled my mind from focusing within, and turned my attention to my surroundings.

I could feel the cold metal grated floor beneath me. Raised metal, ripped and torn from my final stand dug into my back and legs. With another gasped breath I could feel the metal hold my flesh in place as I tried to move. I let my head fall to the side, feeling the cool metal against my broken and leaking cheek. Bright light lanced through my eyes as I lifted heavy lids. Before me were two individuals who _could not_ have come from Rapture. Whether or not they were merely manifestations of my ADAM addicted mind were up for debate. One thing for certain was they did not belong.

They stood stiffly next to one another, bodies angled towards one other while they looked down their noses at me. Their pristine white shoes stood centimeters from my pool of blood, which magically seemed to be flowing around them, as if their very presence rejected to be interacted with. As if the very universe refused to accept them.

The woman wore a brown knee length skirt, with a tan dress coat. A white button up shirt could be seen, with a green tie and brown vest. Her face was angular, with high cheek bones and an air of indifference on her face. Her eyes, however, blue as the sea this city was built under, gleamed with manic curiosity. Red hair was pulled into a sweeping bun behind her head, giving a contrastingly severe look to her youthful face.

The man next to her could only have been a twin. He wore brown trousers, the same white shoes, tan coat, white shirt, green tie and brown vest. His face had similarly high cheek bones, and shorter red hair was gracefully oiled up and out of his face.

These two almost identical individuals stood seemingly within the eye of the hurricane that was Rapture City. They stood calm, poised, collected, and more importantly spotlessly clean. Inches from grime and blood they stood, and looked down their nose towards the dying man at their feet. The man drew my attention as he sighed in a resigned manner and seemed to slump from his tight upright posture with the gesture.

"I don't know why I bother. You always get your way."

"Our way," the woman disagreed. "besides you can't say that you aren't curious as well."

"Very well. After this let us go back to Mr. Booker. I have more variables to test."

At this the woman rolled her eyes dismissively, "That entire thought experiment." She said quickly, "is a worthless exercise."

"Not this again. One goes _into _an experiment knowing one could fail." The man rebutted just as quickly.

"One does not undertake an experiment knowing one _HAS_ failed." The woman and man continued seemingly ignoring my presence with everything but their gazes.

All the while they spoke to each other their eyes and faces never drifted from my broken form. All the while the pain and fire and BURNING still pulsed in time with my heart, and leaving me in chills seconds later. All the while my mind took in the details around me. The floor. The tacky, sticky feeling of dried blood on my skin. My ADAM addled mind came to one final conclusion. One conclusion that required all my mental faculties to comprehend.

"I…"my voice cracked in pain and exhaustion. "I'm… alive."

"Well of course you are." The condescending voice was back. This time it came from the woman. Strange, she seemed like the one that _wanted_ to talk to me.

"Speaking of HAVING failed, I must ask again what the point of this is. We have run this experiment time and time again. Is that not-"

"If you quote me the definition of insanity one more time you will not be happy."

"Fair enough. I suppose I am a little curious anyway."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. I noticed the abnormality as well."

"Excellent. Then we are on the same page then."

"Aren't we always?"

I could do nothing but let my eyes ping pong back and forth between the two figures before me. In the back of my mind I was dimly aware that my blood had continued to avoid touching them, to the point that it had circled around the both of them and continued away. The result was a perfectly dry circle where they stood oblivious to the world around them.

"Surely you must know, Mr. Fitzpatrick." The man said in that same condescending tone of his.

"That even with all the ADAM in the sea, it's not entirely normal to reappear over and over again strapped to the same structure." The woman next to him finished the sentence, a small smile spread across her face.

"Mr… Fitzpatrick?" I muttered through cracked and jagged lips. The name sounded… strange. It rang a distant bell throughout the emptiness that was my mind.

"The same structure that no matter how often it's damaged," the man continued on as if I had never spoken.

"Is fully repaired the next time you appear." Now they both had smiles on their faces.

"Now, Mr. Fitzpatrick." The man started.

"I think it is time you came with us." The woman finished.

With that they both knelt down, and with a bright flash of light I lost consciousness for the second time.

Chapter End

Hey all. This is Septim7, formerly GriffonUnion here on the site. I have decided to start a new piece, and it is kind of a different step for me. I have to say I haven't written a cross over before, but the idea just wouldn't get out of my head. Hopefully by putting it into words I can have some piece of mind. However the more probable route is that I will get so caught up in this that everything else will fall by the wayside. With a wedding coming up in a couple months that's probably not the best plan.

But oh well! I love writing. So this work is getting out there in the real world. Or as real as the internet is anyway.

This fic was inspired by Kenchi618 and all his amazing works. For the longest time I loved the way he seamlessly brought Naruto from his world and made his interact and thrive in a new fandom. That is my goal for this work. The initial one will be taking Atlas and putting him into a fandom. At the moment Im leaning heavily towards Teen Titans, because there is a lot to work with by simply branching out into the rest of the amazing DC heroes.

He shall not be Super!Atlas, although he will be a meta-human with a very particular power. One that I can't wait to write about. I really don't want to make him over powered in a universe with Superheroes, so for a while he shall be very sneaky. He is a Conman after all.

Tell me in a pm or review if you can guess what it is. I personally think it will fit and flow pretty well, but then again it's my idea, so I would think that.

Chapter Word Count: 5,962

Story Word Count: 5,962


	2. Ch 2 Welcome to Gotham

Would you Kindly

Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock, Bioshock Infinite, Teen Titans, or DC.

_So here's the second chapter. With the first I was trying to balance multiple things to get the feel of the story just right. Between Atlas losing everything that made him who he was, to struggling the addiction to ADAM, it was a challenging chapter to write. _

_Last chapter was one of the longest fight scenes that I've written, and the conversation between the Lutece siblings was confusing even to me. If you have any suggestions on ways to improve let me know. _

*Chapter Start*

"_Surely you must know, Mr. Fitzpatrick." The man said in that same condescending tone of his. _

"_That even with all the ADAM in the sea, it's not entirely normal to reappear over and over again strapped to the same structure." The woman next to him finished the sentence, a small smile spread across her face. _

"_Mr… Fitzpatrick?" I muttered through cracked and jagged lips. The name sounded… strange. It rang a distant bell throughout the emptiness that was my mind. _

"_The same structure that no matter how often it's damaged," the man continued on as if I had never spoken. _

"_Is fully repaired the next time you appear." Now they both had smiles on their faces. _

"_Now, Mr. Fitzpatrick." The man started._

"_I think it is time you came with us." The woman finished. _

_With that they both knelt down, and with a bright flash of light I lost consciousness for the second time. _

"Talk"

"_Think"_

"**Yell?"**

The dull drone of city sounds assaulted my aching head as I swam back into consciousness. The pain that had been my everything had finally settled into the background. Beneath me I could feel a hard, cold floor of concrete and metal. Its cold sting was offset by the haze of my mind, numbing me to all but the worst of the after effects I was feeling.

My eyelids felt like lead curtains, the weight unmanageable through the fog of my thoughts. With great effort I managed to pry them open, and the sight that greeted me was one I never could have expected.

Pinpricks of light streamed into my vision from the heavens. Bright swathes of color, reds and yellows and greens streaked across the night sky in the most brilliant expression of color only the gods could have created.

I saw this most glorious expression and I felt tears gather in the corner of my eyes. This sight before me was awe inspiring, worthy of praise from the heavens. Poets should create sonnets everlasting about the sight that I was blessed to witness. The night sky was something I never again thought I would see, something that I only could dream about.

A thought bounced around my brain for moments before I gave it conscious thought.

'… _why would I dream about seeing the sky again…', _I thought with puzzlement.

As my mind fully comprehended the question, that's when I felt it. Like an ice pick being driven through my brain, my head erupted with pain. A scream struggled to my lips, threatening to break loose before I was frozen still. It was not the pain that stopped me, for I was no stranger to it. What gave me pause was the rush of memories that flooded my mind.

I saw myself in an orphanage. A young boy no one spared a second glance at.

I was just another pickpocket on the streets of Brooklyn, trying to survive. I remembered growing up, my grifts and scams getting more and more elaborate.

I remember getting the job at the Vaudeville Theater. Learning the trade of acting and costumes, it only increased my drive. With my talents no mark was untouchable.

I recall taking control of the bar called "the Clanger" on the docks, just to hear juicy rumors I could exploit. It was just a matter of time till I had heard about Rapture I suppose. One overhead conversation about the "North Atlantic Project" at my bar and I was hooked.

It was a small thing to locate a smuggler by the name of Frank Fontaine, a supplier of fish to the project in the middle of the sea. All it took was a subtle infiltration of his organization and taking it over from the inside out. Taking care of Fontaine after that was child's play. I remember distinctly _Becoming_ Fontaine, and accepting my invitation to Rapture. The Great City Underwater.

What came after was my longest grift to date.

It was beautiful. This scam was one for the record books. It took a full decade in the making to have Fontaine Futuristics rise as a rival to Ryan Industries. A decade of pretending to be someone new. Hell, I almost miss it. From there it was just a small jump to faking my own death and taking my final persona, Atlas. The working class stiff from Dublin, here with wife and child to make a new life for himself.

It was my perfect mask. The masses that disagreed with Ryan's philosophies flocked to my banner. The banner of the working man. Just like that I was the leader of the resistance, and I clearly remember where it all went wrong.

My armies of splicers were not as loyal as I had predicted. Having never tried ADAM for myself, I was unaware of the weakness it left all the users with. With Dr. Suchong's help, Ryan used pheromones to turn the whole plan on its head. My army went insane, no longer heading my orders and causing havoc across the entire station. To make matters worse, Ryan bio-locked the bathyspheres to the surface, leaving me and my few followers stranded.

Finally I recalled my ace in the hole, and my inevitable destruction. Jack, Ryan's biological son arrived back in Rapture. Using mental commands that Ryan had implanted long ago, I used him for my own gain. I killed my rival Andrew Ryan.

I killed him with his own son.

Everything after that… got a little hazy still.

I remember having my plans come together. I **OWNED** Rapture. I was going to use it to create a criminal empire that reached the surface, but… something happened.

I… remember the ADAM. I remember the power that it held, power that I had resisted for so long.

Everything after that is a blur, everything exempt for the end. There were voices at the end… two voices that talked nonsense.

"It seems our test subject has awoken." A male voice said in a dismissive tone.

"I believe she has been awake for at least a minute." A female voice answered from the other side of the room.

"Awake but not cognitive."

"Cognition has no bearing on being awake."

Those voices I remember distinctively. It was with horror filled eyes that I turned my head and gazed at them mutely. I felt my jaw slacken in disbelief as I saw them once more standing before me. Just like before I was prone on the floor, and they gazed down at me with their cold eyes.

"Must we re-"

As they talked I took in my surrounds, and the sight that met my eyes left much to be desired. I was lying upon the floor of an abandoned apartment bedroom. Peeling white wallpaper met my eyes, the rest of the room similarly rundown. A broken box spring was leaning against the far wall. It's rotten wooden frame sagging from water and age.

Concrete floor stretched as far as the eye could see, the carpet long ago ripped up and taken by some scavenger. Entire walls were missing, showing the building floor in its entirety. I could see a stairwell against the rearmost wall, leading up and down to other floors in the building.

I glance back up towards where the sky met my gaze as I awoke, and saw that entire sections of the floors above me were missing as well. I counted another three floors located over my head, and it was only through the hole that the night's sky was visible.

"Irrelevant." The woman's clear voice said as it broke through my musing." The process that brought him here we can discuss later."

"Of course. Now we must discuss-"

"-what to do now."

I tried to sit up from the floor, only to gasp my chest in pain. "AH-!" I cried out, only to cut myself short. The voice that came from my throat was not my own.

"Wha…" I tried to start again but trailed off once more. The voice was a much higher pitch that mine, as well as having a rather distinctive accent. An accent that I had cultivated for use in an underwater city far from here.

A Dublin working class's accent, coming from the mouth of a child.

Stupefied, I glanced down at my form and instantly noticed some changes. Even before my addiction to ADAM, my form was tall and broad-shouldered. My current body however, was neither.

Thin arms were raised in front of my vision, hands turning over for inspection. They were rough, calloused things. They were hands that had seen work. At least that hadn't changed.

I stood to my feet, swaying slightly from the pain once more. My shoes were badly scuffed and frayed, and once on my feet I could feel a hole or two in the sole. My long pants were in similar condition, having been new long, long ago. My shirt was a light blue rag, but it covered my torso so that I wasn't indecent. A zip up grey hooded jacket completed the ensemble that I was wearing.

"There have been-"  
"-some changes during the journey."

"You will find that-"

"-some things changed while others-"

"-stayed the same."

The twins were looking at me again. Both gazed with curiosity evident in their eyes.

"You have noticed some already-"

"-but I assure you that is not all." They both smiled again, that same smile that I saw before they brought me here.

"Please..." I said to them in the quietest voice I could manage. The Irish accent tinted my words without my consent as they passed my lips. I thought back to my youth and summoned up every ounce of childhood cuteness I may have once possessed. "What has happened to me?"

The two of them shared an amused glance before once more looking at me. As Atlas the Titan, I am sure I would have towered over them with my seven foot form. Now however I barely came up to their chests.

"We have been watching your journey for some time now-" The woman began to say.

"Well you have." The man interjected swiftly. "I have my eye on a different outcome. It seems far more promising."

"Quiet. We are explaining." She scolded the man, who visible deflated.

"Very well." He straightened and turned his attention back to me. "It's all a matter of perspective you see."

"Perspective?" I hesitantly questioned. I wasn't entirely sure, but these people seemed rather insane. I chanced a quick glance at the staircase across the floor, before ruling that course of action out entirely. _'I would never make it that far.' _I said to myself resigned to my fate.

"Take this coin." With a sweeping gesture the man pulled a silver dollar from behind his back. " Heads-"

"Or Tails." The woman interrupted this time, cutting into this sentence like he did to her.

"What?" Now I was thinking they really were insane.

"Heads?"

"Or Tails?"

I looked back and forth between the two of them for a second, before shrugging my shoulders resignedly_. 'Just get it over with'_ I heard in my mind. I took the coin from his outstretched hand and sighed.

"Tails."

The second I gave my answer the coin was flipping through the air. The sheen of silver glittered as it reflected the lights coming in from the windows surrounding us. With a flick of his wrist the man caught the coin, before slapping it down on the back of his hand.

With a flourish as if revealing some great magic trick, he removed his hand and stared at the coin.

After a few seconds of silence in the room I stood on my tip-toes and glanced over. This new height was going to take some getting used to I suppose.

"So… its Tails. What was that supposed to prove exactly?" I glanced at their faces, but that just confused me even more.

The woman, with her red hair tied back and severe cheek bones, was smirking at the man.

Said man was simply staring at his hand where the coin rested peacefully. His face had an incredulous look up on it, as if he did not believe what had just happened.

"I suppose that must be upsetting. You have been waiting for tails for a long time." The woman said to him, amusement clear in her voice.

He simply glared back. "When we are done here we are going back to the Raffle & Fair."

She sighed quietly, "He will just flip heads again."

"Chin up. There is always next time." He stubbornly mocked. "That's what you said right?"

"Never mind him." She turned her attention back to me as she snagged the coin from the man's hand.

"Now. It is all about perspective." She took the coin between two of her fingers and showed me one side. "Heads…" With a flip she showed me the other. "Tails."

"Dead.." The man jumped in again.

"Alive." They both smiled again. It was even in-sync.

"But how am I here?" I questioned again. I dropped the child act. They obviously knew more about this than I did, and slowly they were telling me what I wanted to know. No grift or con was going to speed that up.

"Sometimes the difference-"

"-Between realities is as simple-"

"-As a single coin flip."

The woman flipped the coin this time, and caught it deftly in her hand. Flashing the tails side at me once more, she said. "With all that ADAM in you,-"

"You opened you're very own rift." The man said.  
"Or someone opened it for you." Argued the woman.

"But all that ADAM couldn't come with you."

"It simply powered the journey. Leaving-"

"-You with the situation that you currently-"

"-Find yourself in." The woman finished the tangent by waving her hand at my form before her.

"When you crossed you had no body."

"So you simply inhabited your body in this reality."

I held up my hands to stop them before they could continue on even more. "Wait, wait." I spoke, "then why am I as tall as an eleven year old?"

"Perspective." They said at the same time. That single word echoed throughout the empty abandoned apartment floor resolutely. It had a ring of finality to it, as if it meant much more than I currently understood.

"In this world your grandfather never left Ireland." The man said cheerfully to me. He had a gleeful expression upon his face, like he knew a joke and would soon hear the punch line.

"You're grandmother still met him, but it was twenty years later." Glancing at the red haired woman confirmed a grin on her lips now as she took over the story. "The same happened to your mother's side of the family. They met later, married and had your mother."

"You're mother and father met when they were young, but was separated. They spent a good portion of their lives looking for each other."

"I heard it was rather romantic." The woman said.

"A modern fairy tale indeed." The man answered in agreement.

"The end result,-"

"-Was your parents met and settled down-"

"-In Ireland instead of New York."

"They were both in their sixties when they had you,-"

"-And passed away soon after." The grin the man had now was positively sadistic.

"Leaving their only daughter alone in the world. Quite sad really…" The woman trailed off as she finished, simply staring at my face in anticipation.

A winter wind swept through the open apartment floor suddenly, sending chills to my very bone. At least I think it was the wind.

"Ex…excuse me?" I warbled out a high pitched reply. My involuntary Irish brogue escaping once again as well. I simply stared back at the two individuals before me with wide eyes. Eyes that quickly darted down at my form, before back up into the twin sets of amused eyes looking at me.

"Perspective." They said in unison once more. "Where in your reality you were a boy-"

"In this one you were a girl."

"And born about fifty years later."

"Yes, that part does make a bit of difference…" The woman trailed off again.

I couldn't keep it in any longer. "That part!" I bellowed at the pair. "Tha' part makes a bit o' difference!" I could feel the accent kicking up a notch in my anger, but at this point I didn't care one bit.

"I'm a bleedin' Girl! How in bloody hell is being born in a different time more important!"

I caught a shift of movement off to the side and glanced at it, my rant dying off as I stared. My reflection stared back at me, or what I assume must have been my reflection. The preteen tilted her head to the side at the same time that I did.

Slowly I approached, and realized what had caught my eye was a broken full length mirror. Cracks ran the full length, leaving two reflections staring back at me. My clothes were little better than rags. Ragged edges and holes were prominent across every garment, but it was my face that drew my attention.

They were my features. From before I mean. I still had the same brown eyes, the same brown hair. The hair was longer however, hanging to my shoulders instead of the crew-cut I had come to use. It was grimy and unkempt, but I could see potential there.

My noses was a bit thinner, but not totally different. I still had the same pointed chin, the same high cheek bones. Hell, I bet I had the same dimples if I gave smiling a try. Everything was there, but softer. It was a little more delicate, but still me.

I turned and glared at the duo again. I felt my rage increase again, covering the shock of seeing my appearance. Great heaves wracked by tiny frame as I struggled to take in air. Then my eyes seem to take in the situation before me in a new light. As I gazed at the two of them, still smirking away at me, I started to put the pieces together in my mind.

I raised my hand and pointed at the man, and then at the woman. My expression must have shown my bafflement, because as I continued to stare and point the twins cocked their heads to the side at the same time.

"I think he may have gotten it."

"I think it's a she now. If you want to be accurate."

"In his mind he is still a he. The bleed won't happen for some time yet."

"If it happens at all."

"Would you kindly STOP." My eyes were hard now. My throat burned as if it was on fire, but I endured. I stared at them before me in rapt attention, trying to take in every detail before it escaped me. They simply stood there, not moving a muscle under my inspection.

The same hair, down to the very color. The eyes, nose, chin, cheekbones, hell even their posture. It was all the same. No, not the same. Identical.

They were…

"You're copies… aren't ya?" I had found my voice again. I plowed on, unable to stop the words as they came out.

"You are like me then, from two separate worlds. Like what you were talkin' about earlier."

The smiles didn't leave their faces at my declaration, if anything they got wider. With a bow the man stepped forward and said, "You are a clever one. My name is Robert Lutece."

"I am Rosalind Lutece. You, Mrs. Fitzgerald-"

"Please, don't call me that." I shook my head, trying to escape memories." It has been a long time since I have answered to that surname, and I still don't accept the whole girl thing. Atlas will do, after all I can't really go by Frank anymore."

"Atlas then… why don't you take a look outside. The view may surprise you."

Hesitantly I turned my gaze from the Luteces' and towards the large windows built into the wall behind me. The window was a dirty thing. Four grime covered glass panes hung in the window frame, only one of them broken and jagged.

I drew closer to the window, and through the dirt covered glass I could finally make out the view behind it. The apartment building was much taller than I had originally imagined. We were dozens of stories in the air, and from my vantage point the city before me was laid bare.

The colors of the city shocked me first. Bright lights of every color imagined stood in stark contrast to the white snow lazily falling to the ground. Bright green neon lights lit billboard signs, blues and reds lit others. They all came together to form a moving scene of color that lit the entire city. Even though it was dark the city was teeming with life and light.

Billboards sat like sulking buzzards upon buildings, their bright lights gleaming in the dark trying to draw attention to themselves.

I even thought I glimpsed a couple of the billboards moving. Like giant color televisions they jumped and rotated in their frames, proudly proclaiming their products to the eyes that beheld its image.

Giant buildings lurked in the background of the light as dark shadowy monsters. Their forms could be seen hulking behind the light, hundreds of stories tall. Even from my vantage point I could make out people toiling in the bright pinpoints of lights that littered the city. People going about their lives at this late hour.

Standing tall amidst the dark towers that scraped the skies was one lone tower that was as bright as the sun.

Lurching through the city as a spear of light to the heavens was a building, if it could be called that. Gothic architecture littered the building, with arches and spires rising along the entire length.

Proudly displayed on the top of the building was a single letter. In a flowing script a large W made of light beamed out into the city below. Its light gave off a glow that was visible even from my grimy window miles away.

"Maybe fifty years is a bit of a difference…" I mumbled, unable to tear my gaze from the tower.

Silence met my declaration. Not a peep came from the duo behind me, and when I tore my gaze from the window I only confirmed my suspicions. The duo was no longer behind me.

With a burst of speed I dashed over to where they had stood, but no sign of their presence ever being there remained. Even the snow that had crept into the building from the hole above was undisturbed, save from my own feet.

"Should we tell her?"

"She will find out on her own."

'_There!' _The voice in my mind cried loudly at the sound, and I turned so fast I felt my neck pop.

Through the snowy hole in the ceiling I glimpsed a flash of red hair before it was gone. It was all the confirmation that I needed. I took off towards the stairs with all the speed my new body could manage. Short thin legs pumped away at the concrete floor as I sped towards the stairs I knew would take me to my destination.

I reached the stairs and jumped the steps two at a time. At the landing I quickly sped up the next staircase, ignoring the doorway to the floor on that level. Somehow I knew that they wouldn't have been there even if I had checked. One, then two floors flew past me as I ran. Finally I saw my destination before me, and with a great leap I hit the release bar on the door.

The door swung back and banged into the wall behind it, but I cared not. With gasping breaths I made my way out onto the roof of my building. Silence met my heaving breaths and I looked right and left quickly, searching for my prize.

It was not success that entered my eyes, but disappointment. My quarry was not here. Snow covered the roof in great swatches of white. Drifts gathered next to broken machinery in huge mounds two feet high at least. With feet that sunk inches into the snow I slowly made my way forward to the buildings edge.

Here the snow was thickest, resting at an incline from floor all the way to handrail. Bracing myself against the rusted metal guard that sat of the side of the building, I set my gaze out over the city once more.

Something on the scene before me had changed. Some minor detail was different, and it tingled at the back of my mind. As I watched the denizens of this city going about their daily crawl, I noticed subtle differences now.

Their movements were hurried. The people scurried back and forth across the city with haste in their step that was not present minutes before when I looked upon then. They glanced in the shadows in apparent fear, and some even glanced up at the sky.

I followed their gaze and that's when I saw it. Standing in sharp contrast to the gloom of the city was a beacon in the sky. White light created a shape on the black overhanging clouds, a shape with wings.

The signal in the sky seemed to have been the catalyst that had frenzied the population below. _'I wonder what it could mean…'_I pondered to myself.

A voice carried on the wind straight to my ear. A voice that I had tracked to this rooftop. _"Welcome to Gotham."_ Rosalind seemed to whisper to me.

I glanced, but I already knew I would find nothing around me. _'Definitely going insane…'_

-*Scene break*-

It was to a creaking floorboard that I awoke. My eyes snapped open instantly, my body remaining still. I knew that it was only a matter of time. I could not remain undisturbed in this place for long. The sun shown directly into my eyes from the cracked window above me, and the sounds of the street below told me it was at least morning in the city.

It had been four days since the Luteces' had dropped me off in this apartment complex. The first night consisted of being freezing cold in an abandoned apartment complex open to the elements in winter. It went about as well as to be expected. I still had a cold I think.

The rest of my time here had been split between two things.

First I had made many attempts to find out information that I desperately needed about this new world. Sadly most of all my efforts had been for naught.

I had assumed that this world would function similarly to my own. An assumption that was quickly proven incorrect. After four days in this new world I was already feeling uncomfortable. I wouldn't say I was homesick, just that this world was fundamentally different from my own.

Gotham City was a good example. I do not remember a similar city in my own world. Yet here it is, nestled as a sort of harbor city on the coast. The entire metropolis is more than a mile off the coast of New Jersey, connected to land through a series of twelve bridges all over the city. As I walked the streets not far from my stronghold I have heard mention of other new cities, ones that were not present in my own. Obviously there were other differences than just my gender with this new world.

Gotham in fact has many similarities with Rapture I have come to notice. The distinctive divide between the haves and the have not's is present, as is the civil unrest. Why, with a few pokes to kindle the embers into a roaring fire, I'm sure I could have full blown uprising in just a couple of years.

If that was my intention anyway. I have inhabited this city for just a handful of days, and I already see myself wanting to leave as fast as possible. I no longer wish to play the proletariat that helps the masses. I find my attention shifting to a different sort of grift.

I noticed immediately the difference in technology between this world and my own. Colored televisions littered the world it seemed. Even Rapture never got close to this kind of technology.

In the days of my observations, I witnessed many strange acts that left me puzzled. People exchanging plastic cards as a form of payment for goods and services. People talking into a sort of hand-held portable telephone, and the cars! The cars half the time were not even made of a type of metal. Just some sort of plastic. This world is clearly mad.

The second thing that occupied my time here in the city was getting used to my new body. My mind and reflexes were still from my six foot tall male form after all. Suddenly becoming four feet zero overnight didn't make moving around terribly fun. Constantly for the past few days I misjudged the distance I arms had, or my legs could reach.

Not to mention the fact that I was female…

Let's just say that I am still not entirely used to the difference. I still sometimes go towards the Men's when I enter bathrooms.

The creaks in the floorboards drew closer, and I knew the time had come. I jumped up from my position against the wall and bolted through the closest door. From the corner of my eye I could make out my scavenged backpack leaning haphazardly against the wall. Inside was all the food I had managed to steal and con in the past couple days, and I could only look at it longingly sitting just out of reach.

'_No time…'_ I thought to myself and cleared the doorway.

"Hey! Get back here kid!" A man in black yelled behind me as I bolted for an opening in the drywall. It was small, a tight fit even for me. I dropped to my knees as I drew close, barely fitting as I slid my way clear of the hole. I heard a grunt behind me and managed a glance back before I was on my feet again.

I saw a flailing arm wave frantically in my direction. He wore an entire black suit and a black cloth mask covering his face. In his haste to capture me he had apparently dived towards my flashing legs, leaving him in a rather uncomfortable position. His head and shoulder had gotten wedged into the small hole, and he franticly struggled to free himself.

I tried to take in more details but time was running out. I cleared the next doorway and made for the fire escape I knew was nearby.

Two days ago these people had come into the building and had taken control of the floors below me. I think it was the holes in the ceilings that had kept them off this floor for as long as it had. I realized then that my stay here had come to an end. I was simply dragging it out as long as I could.

I reached the snow covered fire escape and quickly descended. I could see the white ground far below, and hear the struggles of the man above me. With a grin I quickened my pace.

Let the cons begin.

My chest heaved as I made my way out of the dark alleyway.

I could still hear the man yell several stories above as I stepped onto the cracked pavement.

I quickly scanned left and right before entering the passing crowd. I quickly reached into my pocket and pulled out the dull green knitted cap I had found behind a dumpster. Pulling my shoulder length brown hair up I twirled it in my fingers before stuffing it all under the cap. My bangs fell down around my face, but overall the cap helped create a more male-centered image I was going for.

Another yell sounded out from the building above me, and I chanced a glance before continuing onward. Apparently random screaming from a skyscraper is no cause for alarm in this city. I shook my head and looked at the faces around me moving at a steady pace. With the loss of all my supplies it was now necessary to restock. I couple marks and I could retire for the night.

I was in a bad spot at the moment, even I could admit that. I had no network, no contacts, and most importantly no money. The first two you could do without, as long as you had the third in excess. It seems like I was going to have to pull this trick off by myself.

That is what all this is after all, a trick. A confidence trick.

Over the years it has gone by plenty of names. A con game, a con, a scam, a grift, a hustle, a bunko, a swindle, a flimflam, a gaffle, or even a bamboozle. The intended victims are known as marks, or suckers. When accomplices are employed, they are known as shills. The term mark actually comes from old Circus scams to be honest. Someone would find a nice rich individual ripe for the taking, and using a chalky hand would "mark" him on the shoulder.

The term Con man, or Confidence man, was started in New York around 1849 by the New York City Press during the trial of William Thompson. Thompson chatted with strangers until he asked if they had the confidence to lend him their watches, whereupon he would walk away with said watch.

Unfortunately this amazing criminal mastermind was captured when someone recognized him on the street… but the name stuck nonetheless.

In a typical swindle, the con man gives the mark his own confidence, encouraging the mark to in turn trust him. The con artist this poses as a trustworthy person seeking another trustworthy person.

Now, there are a couple different type of cons as well. A short con is a fast swindle which takes just minutes. It aims to rob the victim of everything in his or her wallet. A long scam is a scam that unfolds over several days, or weeks and often involves a team of swindlers, as well as props and costumes. The stakes and payoffs are potentially much larger, and so therefor is the danger.

A pretty good example? I was in Rapture for over a decade pretending to be a man named Frank Fontaine, shipping conglomerate owner and creator of Fontaine Fisheries. After that con had run its course I became Atlas, Dublin immigrant and the people's voice. Leader of the proletariat. All that rot.

All the while I walk down the streets of Northern Gotham I scan the crowd. Sure, every now and then I would see a potential mark I could make a quick snatch of, but there was always something wrong. Even at the worst in Brooklyn when I was a child, the city was never this bad.

Everyone walked the streets on constant alert. Eyes flickered left and right looking for threats, bodies tensed in anticipation. I had never seen anything like it. I imagine it might have been similar to people during the World War, but I had no way of knowing.

Then like a miracle from the heavens I saw her, the mark I had looked for all day.

She turned the corner at the far end of the street and strutted in my direction like she owned the world. The crowd seemed to open and separate like the red sea as she approached, leaving her a shining angel on the concrete surrounded by mortals.

Raven black hair swirled around her face as she walked, bouncing with each step. Her face was tanned from exposure to the elements, a healthy glow coming from her pores. She wore a grey business suit that clung to her in all the right ways, heels clip-clapping the ground as she strutted. In one hand she held a black clutch, and the other was one of the portable telephones.

I stumbled the second I saw her. I couldn't help it. My body might be that of an eleven year old girl, but my mind was of a much older male. I rejoined the moving crowd but could not tear my eyes from her swaying hips as she stepped ever closer.

I cleared my mind as much as possible and prepared my plan. No time for anything elaborate, something quick and clean would have to do.

She was getting closer now. We were fifteen feet away. The large man in front of me shuffled his briefcase awkwardly from hand to hand as he walked.

Ten feet now. The clicks of her heels in the early morning were all that I could hear. All other noise from the busy street had faded.

I couldn't see her now, the man in front of me blocking my line of sight. It was all about timing.

The click-clack of her shoes grew ever closer. Five feet.

Now.

I kicked the back of the man's left foot before twisting my foot around his ankle. A sharp tug was all it took for him to go careening into the woman as they passed.

As the man fell I glanced at the woman, and I have to say I'm almost impressed. At the first sign that the man was falling she had tried to turn her body out of the way. Given a split second more warning I think she could have avoided him altogether.

It was not to be unfortunately. With a great bellow the man fell forward and the woman went with him to the ground. The large man's brief case bounced once on the pavement before popping open, sending paper into the wind.

The man quickly rolled to the side and tried to help the woman to her feet, wailing apologizes all the way.

All the while I kneeled on the ground, the woman's clutch in my hands. The large man blocked me from sight with his girth, and stayed that way just long enough for me to get what I needed.

A twist of the fingers and the clutch popped open, a dip inside and it was closed once more. I placed the clutch upon the concrete and rejoined the moving crowd once more.

A count down sounded in my head as I kept pace with the people around me. Five feet, seven, ten.

When no sound of alarm came from behind me I glanced a look. My bangs swished around my face from the quick turn of the head. My brown eyes took in the scene as quickly as it could.

The woman was once more on her feet, business suit wrinkle and scuff free. A small smile graced her face as she waved away more apologies from the man, papers from his brief case still fluttering in the wind around them.

I almost smiled at the scene. In her arms she held her clutch once more along with that telephone. Then I felt a sense of dread fill me, one that went straight to my core. It was a sense that I had cultivated from my youth, and one that I had learned to listen to well. It was the sense that I was in the crosshairs, in the predator's eye, and I needed to Move.

I quickly turned my head and continued onward once more. _'It was just a trick of the light,'_ I told myself frantically. _'Nothing to worry about boyo.'_ The thing was, the words didn't do anything to reassure me. For a split second while the woman was placating the man, I could have sworn she had glanced around the crowd in exasperation. That's what it had looked like, but I could have sworn she had looked directly into my eyes, and smiled.

Chapter End

Hey all. This is Septim7, formerly GriffonUnion. This chapter was rather difficult to get together. As it transitions from Bioshock into DC fully, I wanted to have the change fully incorporated this chapter. Once again, managing the changes in Atlas, the conversations with the Lutece's, and the merge was a challenge. Please give me a pm or a review with thoughts on what you thought, or ways I could have gone about it better.

We should be getting into the Teen Titan storyline around chapter 5 I believe. That is my current timeline anyway. If the buildup is taking too long I may push up the introductions.

This chapter had a lot of information in it, and credit goes to the men and women over at Wikipedia for helping me learn about Confidence Games. Trust me, I am no grifter, so learning all this was certainly eye opening.

Chapter Word Count: 7,002

Story Word Count: 12, 964 words.


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